72 Days
by littlegreenbottle
Summary: "She never made it off the table." With that sentence, JJ broke the hearts of everyone she cared about. It was her fault that Reid was devastated. She spent ten weeks trying to put Reid's heart back together while everything around her was falling apart.
1. Chapter 1

**Seventy-Two Days**

Fifty-three. That's the number of times that Reid appeared on JJ's doorstep.

Four. That's the number of times JJ went to him.

Twelve. That's the number of nights the team was away on a case.

Three. That's the number of nights JJ was sick with the stomach bug that Henry had brought home from daycare.

Seventy-two days. On the seventy-third day Reid called to tell JJ that he was doing better and that he didn't think he needed to come over. It was that seventy-third day that broke the ten-week-long string of nights that Reid had sought solace from JJ.

She would never admit it, but on the seventy-third day, JJ felt like she could finally breathe. It had been seventy-two days of watching Spence break down piece by piece. She tried to put those pieces back together with platitudes, hugs, and reassurances that the pain will ease. Each time she looked into his red-rimmed eyes another weight piled onto her chest. Every hug, every sniffle, every time he said her name, _Emily_, it felt like the vise around her chest tightened.

It wasn't just Spencer that was falling apart. Everyone and everything around JJ seemed to be crumbling. She tried to keep it all together, but at a certain point, something had to give. JJ learned the hard way that she can't always choose what that something is.

_She never even made it off the table_. Her voice wavered; the knowledge that she just broke five hearts in one sentence made her own feel like it was shriveling up in her chest. Reid looked so lost that night that JJ offered to take him home with her. He agreed so quickly that JJ knew this wouldn't be the only time they'd end up on her couch mourning for Emily.

That night JJ cried just as much as Reid did. She cried because they had nearly lost Emily on the table. Twice. She cried because her friend hadn't woken up before she had to go tell the team that she was dead. She cried because Emily was in pain and she couldn't be there to help her through it. She cried because at a time where she probably needed her family most, Emily was lying in a hospital in an undisclosed location with no one at her bedside.

She cried so much for Emily that night that she didn't have any more tears to shed for her other friends. Those would come the night of Emily's funeral. Each rose placed on Emily's grave was a reminder of each person that JJ was hurting.

#

After nine straight days of Spence showing up at her doorstep, JJ was naturally worried when he hadn't knocked or called.

"Spence? Where are you?" JJ had asked when he picked up the phone.

"I don't want to be a burden," he had replied. His voice was nasal and his breaths were coming in the staccato rhythm of someone who had been crying. As the mother of a two-and-a-half year old, JJ knew that pattern well.

"You're not a burden," JJ insisted. "Do you want me and Henry to come over?"

Will was in New Orleans. He had claimed that he didn't want to get in JJ's way during all of this. Apparently he thought that providing support to JJ while she supported the team was _getting in the way_. So JJ talked with Henry. Of course with his propensity for repeating things he has heard, she didn't want, _My mommy is a liar and Emily is alive and well in Paris. Or maybe Brussels_, to come up in conversation. Not that his speech was sufficiently advanced for that, but certainly _Mommy lies, Emmy is alive _was very much a possibility.

So for the most part, JJ wasn't actually talking to anyone. She went to work, performed her duties in a perfunctory manner, came home, took care of Henry and Reid, and then went to bed where she would imagine that Will was there to comfort her. But he wasn't. Phone conversations with Will were short and terse as JJ tried to reign in her emotions. She didn't want to make Will feel like he needed to come home to take care of her. Except that was exactly what she wanted.

JJ took Reid's silence as a yes. "We'll be over just as soon as I pack a few things for Henry."

Reid only lived twenty minutes away, but JJ figured she should be prepared to stay over. With a toddler, you need to be prepared for any situation.

"Thanks," he whispered just before hanging up the phone.

#

Two days later, Will came back from New Orleans and JJ collapsed into his arms. She cried the tears that she had been holding back for days, the tears she felt guilty sharing with Reid. For JJ, guilt was not simply an emotion, but a physical pain that she carried in her chest. She couldn't cry with Reid because she barely felt she could breathe when he was around.

But when she saw Will, standing in the doorway, she knew exactly how Henry felt when he fell down at the playground but the tears wouldn't come until JJ with in his line of sight. In the safety and comfort of Will's embrace JJ could let go. Between sobs she tried to tell Will how she was feeling except that she had to give the redacted version since Will was on the long list of people she was lying to.

"Cher?" Will drawled, taking her to bed. "Why do you feel so responsible for Spencer?"

"Because I am the one who stood there and broke his heart. I am the one who told him one of his best friends was dead and that she was so badly injured that he couldn't, shouldn't, go see her."

_Because I'm the one who is lying to him._

"Surely he doesn't blame you. You were, after all, only the messenger. It's not like you're the one who…" Will stopped himself, but JJ knew what he was going to say.

"He doesn't have anyone else, Will."

"But why does it _always_ have to be you?" Will pressed. "There are six other people on the team that he could go to."

"Five," JJ corrected. Will just stared at her.

"There are only five other people that Reid could go to," JJ clarified. "The sixth was Emily."

Tears filled her eyes. She had felt guilty for wanting a few nights off from Reid. She wanted to spend a night, just one night, with Will holding her while she cried. But hearing Will voice her thoughts out loud made her feel even guiltier. She broke Reid's heart; it was her responsibility to fix it.

JJ slid her hand under Will's t-shirt and started tracing circles on his stomach.

"I don't want to talk about Spencer right now," JJ said. "I want to just be with you. I want you to hold me and tell me that everything's okay."

"I think I can manage that," Will said, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

#

Twenty-nine days. It had been twenty-nine days since JJ took Spence into her arms for the first time to comfort him. Since then, he'd come over twenty-six times and three times JJ had come to him. JJ would be lying if she said that Reid's grief wasn't starting to wear her down. So not only did she feel guilty because she was the cause of his pain, she also felt guilty because every time she heard a knock on the door her stomach sank and her chest tightened.

But that didn't matter because as soon as she saw Spencer's red-tipped nose and splotchy face indicating that he had cried the whole ride to her house, she wrapped her arms around him and made a futile attempt to make everything better.

_I didn't get a chance to say good-bye_.

It was a common theme in their discussions.

_She knew, Spence. She knew how much you cared for her. You two had a special bond, and I know that your friendship meant the world to her._

JJ tried to reassure him, but there were nights that those reassurances fell on deaf ears. Those were the nights that Reid slept in their guest bedroom. Those were the nights that JJ lay awake, trying to ignore the pain in her chest. She would look over at Will, who was sleeping so soundly he barely moved when she picked up his arm and wrapped it around herself.

#

Thirty-two days after Emily died, JJ, Will, and Henry were eating dinner.

"Mommy, what are patistics for mac and cheese?" Henry inquired mid-meal.

JJ laughed so hard she almost choked on a noodle. "I think we should wait for Spence to come over and you can ask him that question, ok?"

"You, uh, don't think he's spending too much time here?" Will asked.

JJ would be lying to say that she never thought how nice it would be to not have a constant reminder of how deeply she had hurt her friends. Seeing Spencer every day never allowed the pressure to ease.

"I can't tell him not to come, Will," JJ said. "He's hurting and he needs support."

"One night, JJ, one night so that we can be a family. Just the three of us," Will pressed. "You're different after he comes over. After he leaves you're wound tighter than my mama's girdle."

JJ started to deny it, but every word he said was true. She was even starting to feel anxious around the time Reid was due to show up: five o'clock on Mondays, seven o'clock on Tuesdays, five o'clock on Wednesdays…

She glanced at her watch. It was twenty minutes to seven. Now that she knew the time, JJ's heart started beating faster and she could not only hear, but also feel each beat in her ears. She took a sip of water, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

"Cher, your hands are shaking and I can practically see you churning up inside. If you don't say something to Spencer, I'm gonna have a word with him."

"I just really need your support on this, Will," JJ pleaded.

Will just sighed a long-suffering sigh.

"Sure, Jen," he said flatly, pushed his chair back and took his plate to the sink.

"Will," JJ called as she watched him walk silently out of the kitchen.

She leaned forward and put her face in the hands. She felt the tears running over her palms.

"Peek-a-boo!" Henry shouted.

JJ picked up her head and saw her son, covering his eyes with hands covered in orange cheese sauce.

"Peek-a-boo!" He shouted again, breaking into peals of laughter.

JJ couldn't help but laugh when she saw remnants of orange cheese sauce on Henry's cheeks and forehead.

She heard the familiar knock on the door and stood up to answer it.

"Is everything okay, JJ?" Reid asked as he walked through the door.

"Yeah, Spence, it's just been a long day," JJ sighed. "Henry has a question for you."

They walked back into the dining room and found Henry with orange cheese sauce smeared on his face like war paint.

"Hi Pence!" Henry called out.

"Do you remember your question for Spencer?" JJ asked gently as she ducked into the kitchen to get a damp rag to clean off her son.

"Pence, what are patistics for mac and cheese?" Henry asked.

Reid paused. "Well, there are approximately two million boxes of Kraft macaroni and cheese sold every day."

JJ reappeared with the damp rag and raised her eyebrows at Reid.

"But I think the most relevant statistic is that the orange cheese sauce only has a seventeen percent chance of staining clothing. And a one-hundred percent removal rate from hair," Reid continued.

JJ just shook her head as she wiped the orange off of Henry's face. "See, honey, I told you that Spence knows his statistics."

Henry looked at her quizzically as she picked him up from his booster seat.

"Do you want me to give him a bath?" Reid offered.

Henry started clapping.

"That would be great, Spence, thanks," JJ said, looking forward to having the few extra minutes to talk with Will.

After showing Reid where the bath essentials were located, JJ slipped into the office where she knew she was likely to find Will sitting in the armchair that he'd managed to rescue from his father's house. JJ had it reupholstered as a surprise and she was convinced that if he could motorize the chair and drive it to work, he'd never get out of it.

"Where are your sons?" Will asked, barely looking up from his book.

JJ climbed onto the chair, straddling Will's lap. She put her hand over his book. "That's not fair."

"I agree. It's not fair that you've adopted a 28-year-old baby," Will said, looking her straight in the eye.

"Will," JJ whispered. "Not now."

"Then when?" Will asked.

"Later tonight after Spence leaves and Henry goes to bed," JJ said.

"So he's not sleeping over?" Will asked.

JJ shook her head. "Even if he is, he's not sleeping in our bed."

"But what if he gets a nightmare and crawls into bed with us?" Will's question was laced with sarcasm and disdain.

The vice around her chest just tightened and she felt like she could barely breathe. There were no words to respond to Will. She leaned forward, buried her face in his chest, and burst into tears.

"I need you Will," JJ managed to get the words out between sobs. "Please."

The pressure in her chest eased slightly when she felt Will's arms wrap around her.

Will didn't say anything. JJ knew he was still angry. But she let herself pretend that his silence was comforting. That he was telling her how much he cared and how much he loved her simply by being there. She didn't want to think about the fact that the only reason Will didn't storm out of the room was because he was raised a gentleman.

_When in doubt, delude yourself_. It was one of Emily's favorite phrases.

JJ felt like it had become her own personal mantra for the last thirty-two days.

It wasn't until JJ heard Henry's voice, pleading with Reid to stay in the tub just _three more minutes_, that she extracted herself from Will's embrace. She got out of their bed and went into the bathroom to wash her face.

She needed to remove all evidence of her breakdown so that she could go help Reid get through his.

#

The next day JJ got a call from Reid saying that the team had been called out on a case and that he would call when they got back.

"You can call me anytime while you're away, too," JJ insisted. Once again she had that strange mix of relief and guilt.

When she was talking to Garcia that evening JJ learned that while yes, the team had been called about a new case, they were still in D.C. and wouldn't be talking off for Tulsa until tomorrow morning.

_Maybe Spence was doing work at home. Or that they were taking off super-early in the morning. Or maybe had heard her conversation with Will._

"Pen, will you keep tabs on Reid? I worry about him," JJ admitted. Garcia knew that Reid was a frequent visitor to JJ's doorstep, although JJ had never told her just how frequent. "And will you let me know when the team gets back to D.C.?"

"Sure thing, mon ami," Garcia chirped before hanging up the phone.

JJ sat back at her desk and closed her eyes, expecting to feel a sense of relief. Her night was her own, to share with Will and Henry. Or to take a long, hot bath and lose herself in a book. She expected to feel relieved that she would have the time to do all this.

If only she didn't feel so guilty.

#

The team was away for four nights. Nine phone conversations including one at two in the morning. Four nights with Will and Henry could have meant one night at the movies, one night building Lego skyscrapers and crashing into them with Matchbox cars, two meals that included wine, one night where she seduced Will, one night where she allowed herself to be seduced, one night where she let herself be convinced to read _one more story_ three more times.

Unfortunately, Henry had picked up the stomach flu from daycare. So it ended up being three days of non-stop diaper changing, cleaning up vomit, and rubbing her son's aching tummy so that he could get some sleep. Will had an overactive gag reflex and tended to be a sympathetic vomiter which meant that either JJ took care of Henry herself or that she was cleaning up twice the vomit. Both she and Will preferred the former.

When Garcia called to let her know that the team was coming home, JJ almost burst into tears. One day. JJ would've given her kingdom to have just one day to herself.

#

"Hey Spence," JJ called out when she heard Reid come through the door.

Reid made a beeline to the couch and JJ was close behind carrying two cups of tea. "How was the case?" she asked, settling in next to him.

Reid shrugged. "It sounds horrible, but I was relieved that the victims had blond hair and blue eyes."

That was definitely something she did not miss from her time at the BAU. All those victims who reminded her of her friends, her cousins, herself. It was hard to see six women on a victim board and not be able to relate to at least one of them.

"I didn't mean…" Reid said quickly.

"Don't worry about it Spence. Emily and I used to talk about it all the time. It's funny because when I first started at the BAU, I couldn't stand the cases with the blond-hair, blue-eyed young women. It was too easy to see myself in their pictures. But when Elle joined the team, it became the brown-haired, brown-eyed women I came to dread seeing in those files," JJ explained.

Spencer nodded. "I kept thinking about Emily because specific things _didn't_ remind me of her. There weren't any children to interview, no doors for her and Morgan to break down, no locals who needed to be put in their place with a single sarcastic comment.

"And then I felt bad because it seemed too easy to work the case without Emily. It should have been harder. There should've been things we missed, the things she would have noticed, that she would've paid attention to," Reid said, staring at his lap.

"You guys were out there for four days, Spence," JJ pointed out. "The team's average is two-and-half days."

JJ could see a small grin forming on Reid's face.

"Did _you_ just tell _me_ a statistic?" Reid asked with a chuckle.

"What? You think you have the monopoly on random facts?" JJ asked, faking offense. "Not to mention the fact that I was the one writing those quarterly reports."

"It's really not the same anymore," Reid said softly. "First you, then Emily. It's… it's harder."

"I know, Spence," JJ whispered putting her arm around him.

For a brief moment she considered telling him that she was thinking about taking the profiling course. Rossi had approached her about re-joining the team as a profiler. He never used the word _replacement_, but it hung in the air during their whole conversation.

But she didn't want to get Reid's hopes up that she might rejoin the team. Because she might not even take the classes. And even if she did take them, she might not do well enough to qualify for the position.

"It gets easier," she assured him. It was something she often told families and victims.

She wasn't entirely convinced that it really did get easier. But it was still one of those platitudes worth repeating.

#

Eight days later, JJ sat in her office, her stomach tied in knots. It had been eight days of Reid sobbing. Not just crying, not just coming over because it was obvious that he didn't want to be alone. Heart-wrenching sobs that shook his entire body. Returning to the field was hard on him and even though the team was away on a case two of those eight nights, JJ didn't get any sleep either of those nights, which were either spent listening to Reid's heartbreak or laying awake worrying about him.

It was wearing JJ down. She had no appetite, had barely eaten anything in the last day, and now she just felt sick to her stomach.

She closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure so that she could finish the reports that had been stacking up on her desk. She pulled the top file from the stack and started to type. Mid-way through the report, JJ suddenly felt warm, like the room was getting stuffy and starting to close in on her.

She reached for her garbage can and emptied her stomach contents into it. As she dry-heaved at her desk, she realized that she must have caught the stomach bug that Henry had last week. She remembered what a miserable two days those were and retched again.

"Ms. Jareau? Are you all right?" It was Allison, her secretary.

"Apparently not," JJ managed to say between retches.

When her stomach finally settled and she looked up from her garbage can, she saw Allison standing there with a bottle of water, some paper towels, a can of ginger ale, and a box of saltines.

"Thanks," she said meekly.

"Is there anything else I can get you, ma'am?" Allison asked.

"I'm going to work from home for the rest of today. Will you reschedule all of my meetings today and tomorrow? Even the phone ones?" JJ asked.

"Henry had the stomach flu last week," she added when she saw Allison looking at her quizzically. The last thing JJ needed was for there to be any office gossip about a pregnancy.

JJ walked out of her office, carrying her garbage can to the bathroom. When she got back to her office, she saw that Allison had set aside a small stack of files labeled "Priority". It was the one thing that the DOD had over the BAU; JJ had her own secretary. She packed up her briefcase, grabbed those files, and headed home.

Between bathroom trips, JJ called Reid. "Spence, it's me."

"JJ, are you okay?" His voice was full of concern.

JJ knew she sounded terrible. Her throat was raw from her repeated bouts of vomiting and she was worn down her cramping stomach.

"I got the stomach flu from Henry," she explained. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to come over tonight." She would be of no comfort to anyone in her current state.

"Do you need me to bring you anything? The risk of dehydration in the case of a stomach virus causing both emesis and diarrhea is significantly higher than in cases of isolated emesis," he explained.

"Will's on his way home. He's going to bring me Gatorade and crackers," JJ told him. "And, Spence, please don't say emesis and diarrhea again."

"Sorry, Jayje," Reid said. "Call me if you need anything."

"Thanks, Spence, I'll call you tomorrow."

She didn't even wait for him to say anything before she hung up the phone and sprinted to the bathroom.

It took JJ three days to get her digestive system back on track. She texted Reid to let him know he could come over that night and as expected, he showed up on her doorstep, looking gaunt and as though he hadn't eaten in three days.

"Come on in, Spence. Will made soup for dinner," JJ offered. "And the guest room has new freshly cleaned sheets and towels."

It was clear that Reid was not ready to be left to his own devices just yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Seventy-Two Days**

It was day fifty-two and it seemed like nothing and everything had changed. JJ heard from Hotch that Emily was getting stronger every day. Hotch estimated that she had about three more weeks to fully recover to the point that she could leave the country and be independent.

_I just wish I could see her again. Talk to her again. _

She couldn't decide if it was worse because she knew it _was_ possible to see Emily again, talk to her again, hug her again. Possible, but also impossible.

Helping Reid work through his grief meant that JJ had no time to deal with her own. She felt silly for grieving for the death of her friend since her friend wasn't actually dead. But she was gone and JJ didn't know if she was coming back.

JJ wanted to tell Emily that she had started the Profiler's Course. She wanted to recount to Emily what it's like to sit in a classroom and be taught by Rossi and Hotch. When she heard her classmates joking about Hotch's eyebrows, her first thought was to call Emily so they could laugh about it. "The eyebrows are not pleased." "The eyebrows demand more effort."

It reminded her of the time when Emily referred to Hotch's reprimand of a local detective as the Hotchilanche. It was nearly impossible to hold it together during the next briefing. This, of course, prompted the Hotchilanche to come down on their uncontrollable giggling.

JJ wished she had the right words to comfort Reid. To be able to tell him that some day the hole in his life would be smaller or that it would be filled by other people. She just couldn't bring herself to tell him that when every day she woke up with the same Emily-sized hole in her heart.

#

Every day was the same. JJ woke up, got both herself and Henry ready for work and daycare, respectively. Eight hours of phone calls, reports, meetings, negotiating, regulating, and directing followed by an hour-and-a-half of classroom time for the profiling course. Then it was time to pick up Henry from daycare, put some kind of dinner together for the three (sometimes four) of them. Then Reid would come over and leave her emotionally drained by time she saw him out. Will usually put Henry to bed while she and Reid were downstairs. So she'd sneak into Henry's room to give him a goodnight kiss without waking him up.

After that, she'd either fight with Will or read a book to avoid fighting with Will. Then she'd go to bed, many nights breaking their promise to never go to bed angry. She'd wake up in the morning, kiss Will on the cheek while he was still sleeping and start everything all over again. And each time she did, she felt like she was losing another piece of herself.

Or maybe it was that she was giving another piece of herself away.

#

"I'm sorry, Jen, I know you have a lot on your plate right now, but I can't help but feel that I'm not one of those things," Will told her fifty-seven days after Emily died.

JJ knew this fight was coming and while she didn't really want to have it now, Will clearly had other plans.

"That's because you've taken yourself off the plate. You left the day after Emily's funeral. I didn't need you to 'get out of the way', I needed you hug me and kiss me and tell me everything would be okay," JJ responded.

"It's all about what _you_ need, JJ. _You_ need to take care of Reid out of some misplaced sense of responsibility. _You_ need me to be there for you on _your_ timeline. You take care of everyone else and then expect me to simply be there to pick up the pieces," Will's voice was eerily calm, laced with a quiet anger.

"I didn't realize that was an unreasonable expectation in this relationship," JJ told him, appalled at how selfish he sounded. "I thought that's what we do for each other."

"This is barely a relationship, JJ," Will pointed out. "You don't talk _with_ me, you talk _at _me. You pay more attention to Reid than you do to Henry and I combined."

JJ ran her fingers through her hair.

"You've seen what I've been going through these last two months and if you haven't gotten it through your thick skull that when I come to bed crying and ask you to hold me, I don't need you making snide remarks about Reid, or complaining that your dinner came from a box."

Will rolled his eyes and sighed. "I'm just glad the team was away on our anniversary or else I'm sure it would have been spent eating Hamburger Helper and then you cuddling with your Spencer until _he_ felt better. And then you'd climb into bed either ignoring me or wanting _me_ to listen to _you._"

JJ swallowed hard. He was right. Had it not been for Garcia, who not only reminded JJ that it was their anniversary, but also managed to get reservations at one of the nicer restaurants in D.C., they would've likely had something from a box. And Spence probably would've come over.

"And on top of _all that_, you go and sign up for the Profiler Course! Without discussing it with me!" It was no longer a quiet anger. "I know you don't need that for your job at the DOD, so where are you going with that? Back to the BAU?"

JJ looked down. Will was right. She hadn't discussed it with him. Partly because she knew what his response would be and that he wouldn't understand the reasons behind her decisions. He wouldn't understand her reasons because she couldn't actually share them with him. There was a lot she _couldn't_ tell Will. A lot she _wouldn't_ tell Will. And not all of that was in the name of national security.

The anger she felt before dissipated and was replaced by fear. It felt like Will was building to something. Something like…no she couldn't even consider that option.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Will. I'm sorry that you feel that I've been too needy or not paying enough attention to you. But things haven't been the same since Emily died. Most of the time I feel like I'm drowning and you are the only thing I've ever been able to hold on to. But now you're slipping away, too."

"I'm not slipping away, I'm walking away," Will told her.

"What?" JJ asked, not sure if she heard him right or if he meant that literally.

"I need some space. I feel like this relationship is a one-way street. You take, I give," Will said.

JJ started to protest, but Will cut her off before the words were out of her mouth.

"When was the last time you asked how _my _day was? When was the last time we had sex? When was the last time you told me that you love me?" Will asked, ticking off the questions on his fingers.

JJ paused. Had she really been that selfish? With everything else that has been demanding her attention for the last two months, she knew that she wasn't putting as much effort into their relationship as she should. But that was because she assumed that Will would be there.

"That's what I thought," Will said.

"I do love you," JJ said softly. She didn't even bother to wipe away the tears that were pooling in her eyes. She took a step towards Will, who stepped back.

"But not enough to discuss big decisions like going back to the BAU?" Will asked.

"I don't know if I'm going back to the BAU," JJ said, even though she knew that really wasn't the point. "I'm sorry."

"Too little, too late. Until you realize that I'm not just a walking Kleenex waiting around for you to come to me crying, then I don't think this is working," Will said.

JJ just stood there. She knew things were tense. She knew Will was unhappy. But she never would have guessed things had gone this far. At least her home life wasn't a part of her final grade in the Profiler's Course or else she'd fail that, too.

"Where are you going? What are you going to do?" she asked.

"My brother's trying to rebuild the cabin and I think I'm going to head home and help him out. I reckon it'll take about a month."

"We're not even going to talk about this?"

"I believe you've already told me that you don't know what I want you to say. Well, if that's the case, cher, then we don't have much to talk about, do we?"

"What about Henry? What about your job?" JJ asked, still not believing that this was happening.

"I told Henry I was going away for a little bit and I'll give you a call in a few weeks and figure things out. As for my job, I took a leave of absence, so I guess I'll figure that out in a few weeks, too."

JJ's fears were confirmed. This wasn't a heat-of-the-argument decision. This wasn't something Will decided out of anger. This was a pre-meditated separation.

"Are you going away for good?" JJ whispered. "I don't want you to go. I don't want this to end. I'm sorry I've been putting everything before you. I love you, Will."

"I'll be back," Will said. "I love you, too, Jen. But I don't need to stick around and be taken for granted and feel like I'm in the way when I'm in my own home."

Anger suddenly tumbled into the mix of emotions that were swimming around JJ's head. Yes, she has not been putting in much effort at home. But that's what relationships were about. They're not simply a day-to-day tit-for-tat exchange. They're about being there for each other, talking through the rough spots, and trusting that those rough spots are temporary.

Just like in the days after Emily died, Will was running back to the Bayou. He didn't discuss it with her back then either. He was one to talk about selfishness and not communicating.

"So you're really leaving? And this is the only conversation we're having about it?" JJ asked, the anger slid right over the lump in her throat and permeated her tone of voice.

Will nodded.

"Well, clearly you've thought this through and apparently there's not much for me to say that's going to change your mind. So just go, Will. Because if this is going to be your response when times get tough, then I don't think this relationship is going to work either. So just go," JJ said, disgusted with him.

"I meant it when I said that I love you, Jen," Will told her. "I just can't be with you right now."

"Really?" JJ asked incredulously. "Because I'd say right now what you're doing right now would be evidence to the contrary."

"Well, my flight leaves bright and early tomorrow. I'm going to take the train to Baltimore tonight," he said, grabbing two suitcases from the closet.

Nope, this was definitely not a heat-of-the-moment decision. This could only be seen as first-degree murder of their relationship.

#

The next day, JJ called in sick. She debated taking Henry to daycare so that she could properly spend the day curled into a ball and sobbing. But she couldn't even bring herself to get it together enough to put her clothes on and get Henry ready to go.

"Mommy!" Henry called. "Daddy! Mommy!"

JJ sat up in bed and realized it was almost a half hour later than when she usually got Henry up for daycare. He was standing patiently in the hallway, shouting at the top of his lungs. At least their diligent training that he never enters their bedroom without asking has been effective.

"You can come in, sweetie," JJ called, patting the bed next to her.

"I did it! Only me!" Henry called as he ran full force towards their bed. Her bed.

At first JJ was confused about what he meant. Until she realized that he was wearing a yellow and orange striped shirt with green plaid shorts. Shorts that he had put on backwards.

"You sure did, sweetie," JJ said. "I'm so proud of you."

Henry's face broke into such a wide smile that JJ couldn't help smiling too. Even with the tears running down her cheeks.

"So I was thinking that you and I could have a day all to ourselves," JJ said, her voice cracking. "We can watch movies and play trucks and eat pancakes for every meal."

It was a two-year-old's dream day.

Henry squealed in excitement. He stood up and kissed JJ on the cheek.

"Mommy crying?" Henry asked placing his hands on JJ cheeks.

She pulled him into her lap and he wrapped his arms around her.

"Sweetie, I'm okay," JJ assured him.

_When in doubt delude yourself._

"Did Daddy tell you he's going to help Uncle Phillip build a cabin?"

Henry's eyes opened wide and he nodded. "Like Handy Manny."

"Yup, just like Handy Manny," JJ agreed.

"Why you cry, Mommy?" Henry asked, tracing his finger along the tear tracks on her cheeks.

JJ sighed. "Mommy's just sad today. I miss my friend Emily. I'm sad that Daddy went away on his trip."

JJ watched as Henry's eyes filled with tears.

"But we don't have to be sad about Daddy going away because I'm sure he'll send lots of pictures of the cabin." JJ made a mental note to call Will and tell him to send pictures for Henry. "And we can color pictures for Daddy," she added.

"I'm hungry," Henry told her, abruptly changing the subject.

"You are, huh?" JJ asked, tickling his tummy. "Are you ready for some pancakes?"

"Yes, Mommy," Henry managed to get out between giggles. She picked him up and gave him a kiss on the nose. She wiped away the tears that had collected in his eyes, but never made it down his cheeks.

"Well, then, we better get going."

JJ spent the day doing exactly what she told Henry they would do. As dinnertime grew closer, JJ found herself at a loss of what to do. It wasn't as though Will hadn't worked nights before. She has made dinner for just the two of them before. But that was the exception. It felt different now that it was the rule.

"Hey Spence, Will's working late tonight and Henry's been asking for a sleepover with his Pence," JJ said, using the name Henry always used. "So I was thinking I could pick up something for dinner and we could come to your place."

"Is everything ok?" Reid asked.

_Damn profilers._

"Yeah, I just thought it would be a nice change," JJ said, trying to make her voice sound light and carefree. "Do you want me to pick up Chinese or burgers?"

"Let Henry pick," Reid said.

When JJ hung up the phone, she couldn't help but panic about the prospect of being with Reid all night and having to hide the fact that Will had just left her.

JJ sighed. It was just going to have to be one of those nights that JJ cried with Reid.

#

The next five days passed in a blur. Somehow she got to work, Henry got to daycare, they both got fed, and she patted Reid's shoulder and told him it would be okay, except that now she knew it wouldn't. The worst part of her day was the Profiler's Course, when she was forced to pretend that everything was hunky-dory. So she just plowed through the test cases, grateful to have something to pour her energy in to.

The one bright spot of her day was seeing Henry's proud smile when he showed off his outfit for the day. His ability to mismatch patterns and clash colors was uncanny. And he put his pants on backwards about a third of the time. One day when JJ dropped him off at daycare, his teacher gave her a knowing smile.

"I see Henry has learned to dress himself," she commented.

"Yes, and apparently he inherited his fashion sense from my father," JJ said, smiling. "He can do what he wants, but when he starts wearing black socks and sandals, I'm drawing the line."

"It's nice to see parents who don't get too uptight about these things," the teacher told her.

JJ just nodded. She briefly wondered what Will would think of Henry's sudden taste in fashion.

Will.

She'd called him a few times, but each time she got his voicemail. The only two times he called her back was during her DOD planning meeting, where she wasn't allowed to have her cell phone. JJ knew he was angry at her, but couldn't believe that he was taking it out on Henry, too.

#

That night, when she got home there was a thick envelope addressed to Henry LaMontagne. The New Orleans postmark made it easy to figure out who the package was from.

"Henry, sweetie, Daddy sent you a package," JJ called, bracing herself for the blond streak flying through the room.

JJ helped him open the envelope, which contained pictures of Will and his brother at the cabin. There was also a Handy Manny t-shirt and a letter to Henry, which JJ read to him. If Will hadn't written, _give your mama an extra hug and kiss_, JJ wouldn't have known that he even remembered she lived in the house.

"Will," JJ said, leaving _another_ voicemail. "Henry got the package and has something to say to you." She held the phone out to Henry.

"Daddy! Thank you," Henry shouted into the phone. "When you come home? I miss you. I love you."

Henry was so excited to talk into the phone that most of his words ended up running together. It didn't really matter; Will would understand the gist of the message. JJ took the phone back.

"Will, it would mean a lot to Henry to talk to you. He asks about you every night. I talked with Henry's daycare and you can give them a call anytime between ten and one to talk to him. I'll text you the number and his teacher's name so you'll have it. Anyway, I miss you and I'd love to talk to you, too."

JJ hung up before her voice could betray her. She closed her eyes to try and get rid of the tears that had already started making their appearance.

"Pence! Pence is here," Henry called out, running to the front door.

JJ quickly took the envelope and its contents and shoved them in the media cabinet.

"Hi, Spence," JJ said when he appeared in the living room, giving Henry a piggyback ride.

"You okay, Jayje?" he asked.

JJ shook her head. With the tears still in her eyes and the lump still in her throat she wouldn't have been able to fool a stranger in the grocery line let alone a close friend who was an expert in reading human behavior.

"I just miss her a lot today," JJ whispered. From the minute that Will walked out, Emily was the person that she wanted to pick up the phone and call. Emily could always be counted on to have the perfect combination practical advice and humor.

"I haven't started dinner, yet, so why don't you and Henry just hang out here while I get things ready. Is spaghetti okay?"

Reid nodded. "Sure. Do you need anything?" he asked, looking at her carefully.

Before JJ could respond Henry, who was still on Reid's back, started to get antsy. "Pence. Play builder. Like Handy Manny."

"Nope, just go build me something pretty," JJ said before she turned to go into the kitchen.

"Where's Will?" Reid asked as they were finishing up dinner.

"Oh, yeah, I was meaning to tell you," JJ said. "His brother's loan came through so he finally has enough money to rebuild their family's cabin," she told him. "So Will went down for a few weeks to help him out."

There was no reason to expound on it any further.

Reid nodded, but gave JJ a questioning look, as though his knew there was something more to the story.

"Like Handy Manny!" Henry called out.

#

Sixty-eight days. It had been sixty-eight days since she told them. _She never made it off the table_. Sixty-eight days and she could still picture their faces. The way Garcia's eyes brightened when she walked into the room, the hope on Morgan's face. But JJ could see their faces fall even before she told them. Because she'd spent twenty minutes in the bathroom preparing to tell the team by thinking about her sister. She pictured herself at Emily's funeral. She thought about what Emily had been going through in the last few weeks and JJ hadn't been there at all for her. And all the pain that Emily had in front of her that she would have to face alone.

So the pain and sadness on JJ's face were real. _She never made it off the table._

She hadn't expected Spencer to leap out of his chair. _I never got a chance to say good-bye._

As she held her sobbing friend, she saw the devastation on everyone's face. There was something about watching Morgan and Rossi crying that was particularly difficult. She had broken two of the strongest men she knew.

Eleven days. It had been eleven days since Will walked out. _I'm not slipping away, I'm walking away_. It had been eleven days of guilt, regret, and anger. But mostly it was eleven days of being alone. She had started sleeping on Will's side of the bed because the sheets still smelled like him. But even that was starting to fade. She wanted him to come home. She would try to be better, less self-centered. More focused on their relationship, more focused on him. Because she needed him.

She wasn't just drowning anymore; she was being pulled under by the riptide of guilt for lying to her friends and the obligation she had to make it better. And without Will she had nothing to hold on to.

#

"I was thinking it would be a good night for a movie. Henry's been talking about 'his Ariel' the last few days, so I thought we could watch _The Little Mermaid_," JJ mentioned, as she and Reid were sitting on the couch after dinner.

"Did you know that the original…" JJ cut him off before he could share his fact.

"And if you mention one thing about the Hans Christian Anderson version, you're doing the dishes for the rest of the week," she warned.

Reid looked sheepish. "Is it okay if I mention that there were three attempts to decapitate the Little Mermaid statue in Copenhagen, only two were successful."

"That was what you were going to tell my two-year-old son?" JJ asked, her mouth dropping open in surprise.

"No, I thought you'd find it interesting," Reid clarified. "I was going to tell Henry about…"

"You're pushing it," she said. "For that, you're doing them tomorrow."

Will had been gone for twelve days. Reid started coming over a little earlier in the evening to join JJ and Henry for dinner. Over the last few days, JJ noticed that not every night was spent crying and comforting, which was a relief, because JJ was starting to feel like she was being suffocated by his grief. How was she supposed to move on when every night a reminder of her deception and the loss of her best friend showed up on her doorstep?

She felt like she had nothing else to give Reid. Except Disney movies and Hamburger Helper.

#

JJ knew she looked like hell when she answered the door. At one in the morning she suddenly woke up in a cold sweat remembering that the credit card bill was due. Today. After paying the bill, she went back to bed, but unfortunately the credit card bill was merely a harbinger of to-do list items to come. Daycare bills, doctor appointments, dentist appointments, her sister-in-law's birthday…

Reid looked at her and frowned. "Another bad day?"

JJ tried opening her eyes a little wider and shook her head. "Nope, why?"

At least Spence had the social graces to not point out the obvious. Instead he offered to watch Henry so JJ could have some time to herself. While there were many things JJ would do with a half hour to herself, plowing through her two-in-the-morning to-do list was not one of them. But with Will gone, she needed to make sure everything was in order.

JJ could hear scuffling in the living room punctuated by Henry's occasional shriek of laughter, it was the kind of shriek that often led to uncontrollable giggling. When she heard Reid laugh, too, it was like music to her ears. When the laughing continued, JJ could help her curiosity and walked out of the office to find Reid lying on his back and hold Henry up with his feet.

"Look Mommy! I can fly!" It was nearly impossible to understand Henry's shout between his laughter and having Reid's feet pressing into his stomach.

"I can see that," JJ said smiling. "Are you an airplane or a superhero?"

"I'm Puperman!" Henry announced.

"Superman, sweetie, with a ssssss," JJ said, trying very hard to not laugh. Henry frequently substituted a "p" for "s" sounds at the beginning of words. Reid had already assured her that it was a normal part of speech development and guaranteed that Henry wouldn't be going off to college asking for another bowl of _poup_ or telling someone that he can _pee_ them.

As Reid started laughing even harder, JJ could see his legs shaking. He lowered Henry gently to the floor.

"I think it's time for Superman's bath," JJ said, figuring it would be a good way to help him wind down before bed.

"I should get going." Reid stood up.

"Are you sure?" JJ asked. Usually Reid stuck around until after Henry was in bed, so that he and JJ could talk.

Reid nodded. "Today's been a good day," he said.

"I was wondering if you and Henry wanted to come over tomorrow night. I want to make you guys dinner." Reid seemed nervous about asking.

"Of course, that sounds great," JJ said, smiling. "I didn't know that you could cook."

Reid looked down at the floor. "Emily was teaching me. We only got through boiling and sautéing so don't expect anything too fancy."

"I'm sure it'll be great," JJ assured him.

"We were supposed to do roasting next," Reid said by way of apologizing.

JJ shook her head. "It's eighty degrees outside. I'm pretty sure that roasting lesson number one would have been that it's a cold weather cooking method."

After JJ saw him out, she realized that for the first time in seventy days, Reid said Emily's name without crying.

#

"More," Henry said, pushing his plate forward. JJ looked at him expectantly. "Please," he added.

"Well, Spence, I think you've achieved a nearly impossible feat: winning the culinary approval of a two-year-old," JJ said, putting more food on Henry's plate. She cut it up into small pieces and handed it back to her son who started eating as though he hadn't eaten in a week.

"It's delicious," JJ told him for the third time since they sat down for dinner. Reid had made beef and broccoli with steamed rice. "I'd say that you passed your sautéing and boiling lessons with flying colors. Not to mention that it's obvious that you've also mastered the skills of julienning vegetables and doing meat marinades."

"Emily had a lot of work to do," Reid admitted.

"Haven't you read _The Joy of Cooking_ and like, a dozen other cookbooks?" she asked.

Reid shook his head. "I tried once, but do you know how horrible it is to have the recipes for broiled salmon with lemon dill sauce and caramel nut brownies floating around in your head?" JJ smiled.

"So how did Emily teach you to cook?" JJ asked.

"She gave me the basic techniques and then wrote out a list of spices that go together and which type of meat goes best with which spice," he explained. "The lessons were really fun," he added softly.

JJ could see that Reid was retreating into his memories and thoughts of Emily. The three of them continued to eat in silence.

JJ had been so lost in her thoughts that she actually jumped when Henry suddenly burped. He covered his mouth and started giggling. She could see Spencer was trying hard not to laugh. She gave Henry the same expectant look as before.

"'Cuse me," he giggled.

"In many eastern cultures belching after a meal is considered the highest compliment that can be paid to a chef. In fact, in Japan it's considered an insult to _not _burp," Reid informed them. "So, one might argue that _you're_ the one with the poor table manners."

"Be that as it may, I am not going to encourage my son to belch after every meal," JJ told him. Reid just shrugged.

After JJ had put Henry to sleep, she and Reid were sitting on his couch.

"You seem a lot happier these last few days," JJ pointed out.

Reid nodded. "I still miss her."

"I didn't mean to insinuate that you didn't. These last few months have obviously been really hard on you, but it feels like something changed recently," JJ explained.

"Well, it's not as though I can keep showing up at your doorstep every day," he said. "Emily wouldn't have wanted that."

His eyes filled with tears. "She was teaching me how to dance, too. First the merengue and then salsa."

A surprising thought came barreling through JJ's mind. It was a thought that had never occurred to her before, though it would explain a lot of what had happened over the last few months.

"Spence, were you and Emily involved?" she asked timidly.

"Involved in what?" he asked. JJ just shook her head, for someone so smart…

"Like romantically involved," JJ clarified. "With each other," she added.

Reid shook his head. "No, why would you think that?"

"Well with the cooking, and the dancing, and how devastated you've been since she died," JJ let the sentence dangle, not sure how to exactly phrase it.

"She told me that I needed to get out of my head more and _do _things, not just read about them or think about them," he explained. "She was helping me."

JJ nodded and put her hand on top of Reid's.

"I've read about the salsa and could tell you that most of its musical origins come from Cuban music that was inspired by both African drum rhythms and Spanish guitar." He looked down. "But Emily showed me what it felt like to have my hips move to that rhythm."

JJ smiled, the image of Emily and Reid dancing the salsa was a great one to have in her mind.

"That's great, Spence," JJ said.

"I've, uh, been thinking about taking some classes," he admitted softly.

"That's a great idea," she encouraged. "I can't think of anything that would've made Emily happier than to see you become a gourmet cook and expert salsa dancer."

When Reid didn't say anything, she continued, "you're not replacing her, Spence. If anything, I think you'd be honoring her memory."

He nodded, "That's what I thought, too."

#

"Jareau." JJ said without even looking at the caller ID. She'd been staring at her computer screen trying to force her fingers to write up the strategic plan she was supposed to hand in two hours from now.

Will had called early that morning to tell her that he was coming home in two days. In spite of herself, she burst into tears. It was the first time in three weeks that she talked with him. They had left each other messages, but Will still purposely called when he knew JJ wouldn't pick up. At least Will had been calling Henry almost every day at daycare.

But what had really thrown her off kilter was the phone call she received from Hotch. Emily was well onto the road of recovery. JJ hadn't heard much of the details of Emily's medical condition, but she knew Hotch had stayed informed.

He told her how Emily had spent the last seventy-three days, measured in medical procedures and therapies. Twenty-five units of red blood cells, ten units of plasma, and five units of platelets. And that was _before_ she got into the operating room. Eight hours in the operating room; twenty-four days in the ICU; two infections of her wound, which required three additional surgeries; two more weeks in the hospital; and five weeks of intensive physical therapy.

Seventy-three days later, Emily had been cleared to fly and was deemed healthy enough to go into hiding overseas. JJ had been given the assignment of meeting Emily abroad to give her the cover documents.

So instead of coming up with a five-point plan to address any disciplinary issues that arise after Don't Ask Don't Tell is overturned in a few months, she was sitting at her computer, having a staring contest with the cursor.

"It's me, Spence."

"Hey, what's going on?" JJ was more than eager to turn her attention away from the blinking cursor, which at this point was just mocking her.

"I wanted to let you know that I'm not coming over tonight," he said.

"Oh, okay, do you want Henry and I to come for dinner? Or after?"

"Um, neither. I think I'm ok, actually." JJ was impressed with how confident he sounded. "There's this movie that I've been wanting to see. I had invited Emily one night and she couldn't make it so I didn't go see it, but it's back in the theater and I think I want to go see it."

"That's great, Spence."

JJ was so relieved to have the night to herself that she almost started crying. Again.

"If you need to talk, just call," JJ offered.

"It's a five hour movie," Reid informed her. "I doubt I'll have time."

After they hung up, JJ took a deep breath. The flood of relief was following shortly by a flood of guilt, which was quickly replaced by relief.

#

JJ adjusted the scarf around her neck one last time before walking out of her hotel. As she walked toward the café, she thought about the last eighty-two days since she saw Emily lying in the hospital bed.

For most of those eighty-two days, it felt like she was caught on a merry-go-round. Each day a repeat of the one prior. The last two weeks, however, it felt like the merry-go-round finally stopped, giving everyone a chance to get off, to move on. It had been nine days since Reid called to tell her he wouldn't be coming over and seven days since Will returned home.

Reid had not only started salsa lessons, he also joined a Russian literature book club. She and Will decided that they would be make an effort to work things out. Henry announced he wanted to pee-pee like a big boy.

JJ passed the Profiler Course and according to Rossi she did so with flying colors. Though she never would have guessed that based on the number of comments and corrections Hotch had made on her final practicum. But that hurdle was passed and she was in the middle of three-way negotiations between the DOD, the BAU, and Will about what the next step would be.

What hadn't changed was the suffocating guilt that would overcome her when she least expected it. She thought that because Reid had moved forward, she should have made progress, too. But mostly she felt stuck, stagnant in her grief and remorse.

JJ didn't want to think about that guilt now. All she wanted to think about was getting to see her friend.

Her hair was shorter and she was dressed in an outfit JJ never would have pictured her in, but JJ easily recognized Emily's unmistakable swagger. As Emily approached the table, the relief JJ felt was almost a physical sensation. It was obvious that she'd lost weight, and her face betrayed the fact that she was in pain. But she was Emily; she was alive.

And she still had that swagger. There had always been a thread of elegant confidence and strength that ran through everything Emily did. Here she was in Paris after she had lost everything – her name, fourteen inches of her large intestine, her family and friends, her job, her life – but she still held on to the thread that defined her, and it was woven into every sway of her hips.

By necessity, their encounter was brief. As JJ sat at the café table, watching Emily disappear into the darkness, she realized that she had allowed the guilt, frustration, and sorrow of the past eighty-two days erode the composure and self-assurance that used to be the core of who she was.

It was time to get those back.

She stood up and headed back to the hotel, adding a little of Emily's swagger into her walk. As JJ kept walking, with each step she added a little more sway to her hips that was uniquely her own. There was no room in her stride for second-guessing or guilt.

It was this swagger that held the poise and self-reliance she had been missing for the last eighty-two days. And it was with this swagger that JJ would find the strength to move forward, to keep her head above water, and to be there for her family and friends.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I cannot take credit for the brilliant term _Hotchilanche_. I first read it on Elizabeth Bear's CM blog. Bonus fact, she is the author of the quote Emily says in the opening of _Lauren_.

Also, thanks to all my readers, especially those who reviewed the first installment. I love hearing what people think of my interpretation of off-screen events and even more so, I love hearing other people's interpretations.


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